


tell me, atlas

by madnessiseverything



Series: tales of narnia [27]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Book/Movie: The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe, Ficlet, Gen, Mild Blood, heavy is the head, peter as atlas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28068876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: “Promise me you’ll look after the others,” his mother says, and his shoulders sag briefly under the weight.(Susan watches Peter and prays his legs won’t fold.)the one where there are many things to carry.
Relationships: Peter Pevensie & Susan Pevensie
Series: tales of narnia [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039454
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	tell me, atlas

**Author's Note:**

> “Tell me, Atlas. What is heavier: the world or its people's hearts?” - Darshana Suresh

“Promise me you’ll look after the others,” his mother says, and his shoulders sag briefly under the weight. But it isn’t the first one perched up there, so he straightens up and promises. The memory of his father’s hand squeezing his shoulder is still fresh in his mind, with words so similar to the ones his mother whispers into the air of the busy train station. And he knows he will carry the promise with honour and it won’t be hard. It’s not too heavy, after all.

-

They are in another world, and suddenly the pressure feels like something more. There is a cruel queen, secret police with claws and fangs, a bitter winter. Looking at Lucy’s pleading eyes, Peter feels another join the weight upon his shoulders. Mr Tumnus’ uncertain fate hangs in the icy air between them all, the note crinkling in his hands. Just one more won’t make him crumble, he thinks. 

-

Then two beavers stare at him in wonder, proclaim them all the saviours, and Peter’s breath stutters. Edmund slips out of his grasp into a witch’s hands. Peter feels himself stumble. He fears it will all become too heavy before he has time to learn how to bear it.

-

(Susan watches Peter and prays his legs won’t fold.)

-

A fox calls him King without a pause, looks to him to fight a battle that he knows nothing about. Peter is glad he is sitting down. Susan’s face reflects all his own fears back at him in the growing night, and he stares into the fire until his eyes burn. He doesn’t think he can shoulder all this trust. It already feels like too much, how is he meant to carry even more?

-

“These are tools, not toys,” a man with a red coat and stern eyes tells him, yet another soul that thinks him a knight. The sword is heavy in his hands, and Peter can barely believe he is holding it up without shaking. His shoulders strain.

-

“I too want my family safe,” Aslan says, and Peter thinks he might fall to his knees under the burden. He stares out across a camp full of life, feels the lion breathe in and out next to him, and wonders how they can look at him and not see how weak he is. How can they pile load upon load, and trust him not to fail? 

-

(Susan nudges her shoulder into Peter's arm whenever she can, with desperate pleas sent to whoever might listen that some of that weight will slide off onto her instead.)

-

His arms scream with fatigue, and across the battlefield, Edmund falls. Peter feels the sky follow him down. It cracks, shatters and cuts his skin. It’s not worth it, he screams through the clash of steel ringing in his ears. Blood trickles down his back. He knew all along it would become too much. Edmund isn’t moving, and Peter isn’t willing to pay this price. 

-

“To the clear northern sky,” they shout, and the golden crown settles on his head with the weight of a nation. Peter stands, straining under it, and the skies spread out in front and behind him. There is blood painted across his shoulders where the weight digs deep, and cracked edges look for purchase. Crimson seeps into the blue above. Around him, creatures bow and gasp and speak of beauty. 

-

(The night when golden circlets and a kingdom tangle themselves in their hair, Susan leans her head on Peter’s shoulder and stares out at the land with him. There is a bruise blossoming across her forearm, and her body aches with pains previously unknown. Even in the dark, the ground underneath the balcony is brimming with life and unbridled joy. Her head hurts. She looks up at her brother. 

Peter’s jaw is clenched and his crown askew. The firelight playing across his drawn face reminds her of a moment only a few nights before, filled with snow and expectations neither of them wished to hear. She remembers the taste of iron every mention of battle filled her mouth with, remembers the way Peter’s breath shook with every exhale. Now, with blisters on her hands and a purple bruise around his eye, she thinks their shoulders will steady with time.

Susan reaches up and adjusts Peter’s crown.)

**Author's Note:**

> as usual, i have many emotions. 
> 
> you can find me on my [narnia tumblr](https://bloodybigwardrobe.tumblr.com/) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/notanycritter).


End file.
